Arts & Sciences
David of the White Rock
Translated by Alfred Perceval Graves (1917) · From A Celtic Psaltery (1917)
"All my powers wither,
Death presses me hard;
Bear my harp hither!"
Sighed David the Bard.
"Thus while life lingers,
In one lofty strain
O, let my fond fingers
Awake it again.
"Last night an angel
Cried, 'David, come sound
Christ's dear Evangel
Death's valley around!'"
Wife and child harkened
His harp's solemn swell;
Till his eye darkened,
And lifeless he fell.
Codex Note
Dafydd y Garreg Wen. After Ceiriog, to this Welsh air.
Cite this poem
MLA
John Ceiriog Hughes (Ceiriog). “David of the White Rock.” Translated by Alfred Perceval Graves. Poetry Codex, poetrycodex.com/poem/ceiriog/3/.
Chicago
John Ceiriog Hughes (Ceiriog). “David of the White Rock.” Translated by Alfred Perceval Graves. Poetry Codex. https://poetrycodex.com/poem/ceiriog/3/.
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